Cheese and Crackers
Marisol converted her anger into work. The first task was a rinse-repeat, a check and diagnosis of all the cabin repress valves in the designated safe compartments. The results were eye opening. Like the cockpit, another two valves were candidates for complete replacement. Three more could be salvaged with new motor windings…a laborious process that at face value seemed much cheaper than outright replacement. And that’s what they’d decide, she thought of the captain’s kneejerk reactions to expenditures of any kind. The final valve, feeding the galley, was missing altogether. JesuCristo, the mechanic thought of the short sighted repair. Shiny that we didn’t actually have a hull breach. She cast an eye about the galley. True to Vas’ taunting, the dishes had been done. Marisol opened the refrigerator in hopes of finding leftovers of her cooking, but no such luck. Must’ve been good,she thought as her search unearthed a block of moldy cheese and crackers from the cabinet. Once she’d drawn a glass of water, the mechanic set to work with a knife. Slice by slice, the blue green mold landed on the counter until what remained was a deep yellow block of…something. Cheese product, her wit injected as the first bite yielded up no clues as to a flavor. So what did we learn tonight? she pondered in the quietude of the empty galley. Despite his display of misogyny and willingness to beat her with the chain of command, the so-called crew chief had no interest in addressing the threat they’d just weathered. He’d already been fired for his incompetence. And now, she felt a complete fool for taking up with Riley on his behalf. The crackers were stale, delivering not the satisfying crunch but an unyielding sort of resistance that the flavorless cheese didn’t offset. And day after tomorrow, she thought darkly, we’re right back in the same old mess. ”Leave,” the self serving prick had suggested at the head of a diatribe about how easily replaceable she was. Maybe that wasn’t bad advice. Of all the reasons Marisol had to remain aboard this boat, none was important enough to warrant her going to war with a feral child. While she had no inkling as to the instantaneous hostility shown her by Gill and Haddie, she also understood that after the fuel sabotage and her responding promise of violence, a line had been crossed. That relationship wasn’t about to be mended anytime soon. Especially since Vas had chosen to kick the can down the road. Leave. One thing was certain; if she remained aboard, young Haddie would spare no risk in order to come at her. She’d be forced to react…most like with a bullet. In time of war…. but this wasn’t…yet. She could change the mission…slip Kate off at Skyplex. Her own budding network on Santo could hide the intel agent. As a peripheral, Dorian could stay on, and a triumphant Haddie would have no further reason for sabotage. A dim smile crossed her lips. Maybe I could barter my share for Patch, she thought of the big dog. “Leave,” the word escaped her lips. She’d have to think on it.